120 Water Balloons
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: A rooftop battle. Inspired by Richard Castle's tweets. Set in the summer, post-Always. Pure fluff.


One hundred and twenty water balloons. That was what the packaging had stated was inside, so that was what he had assumed he had filled and placed into the small crate beside the kitchen counter. It certainly felt like it for the amount of time he had spent filling and tying, and praying none burst on him.

* * *

Earlier that morning the warmth of the room had pulled him from sleep; too many blankets, and Kate's body draped over his, had awoken him earlier than he had intended. He had lazily trailed his fingertips over the soft skin of her bare arm, and with each breath he had inhaled the fruity scents radiating from her hair, freshly washed before they had climbed into bed together last night. He would never grow tired of this, of her naked body draped across his, her breasts pressed against his chest, her leg thrown over his. She was a possessive sleeper, and he adored that - even if it was just a little too warm in the room now to have extra body heat adding to it.  
He had slipped out from under her, smiling as she'd mumbled incoherently at the disturbance before settling again. He had kissed her cheek, and taken a last, lingering, look at her body sprawled naked and long on his bed, letting his eyes sweep from her toes to her parted lips and closed eyes, just taking her all in. If the items hidden in his desk drawer weren't calling to him, he could have stayed beside her all morning - but the sun was shining and the day was warm, and he felt inspired.

* * *

With the kitchen faucet, the relative safety of the sink, and a towel - just in case - he had filled one hundred and twenty balloons full of water until they were almost bursting, the latex rubber stretched dangerously thin, and he could only just tie the end securely. He held one in his palm, and smiled in satisfaction of a job well done. He had placed them carefully into a crate, the few left sitting in the sink he would carry, and returned to his bedroom to wake Kate.

He could do this the kind, gentle way, or he could get her completely riled up and in instant attack mode. Option B sounded much more fun. Throwing his weight onto the bed beside where her still form lay, he bounced on his knees, bellowing her name.

"Beckett!"

She awoke instantly. Her eyes flew open and tried to lock on him, but as her vision cleared her brain remained disoriented by the rude awakening. "Castle?" She rasped, her voice thick with sleep. She blinked a few times, and sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself as she did so. "What's wrong?"

He grinned at her. "You gotta get dressed. Come on." He took her hand in his, and tugged her forward as he shuffled back off the bed.

She allowed herself to be moved, still somewhat half asleep, and crawled off the bed. "There better be coffee waiting for me the moment I leave this room," she muttered.

His eyes grew wide, and he raised a hand to his mouth. "Get dressed," he said, pointing to the closet that now held a few of her clothes. "Coffee, coming up." He gestured back in the general direction of the kitchen. He leaned into her, his hands at her waist, pressing gently into her warm skin, and kissed her. "Good morning, by the way," he said, once he had pulled back.

She smiled, still somewhat confused by his behavior. "Coffee, Castle."

"Love you too," he replied, grinning as he turned and made his way back to the kitchen, and to the coffee machine. While the machine gurgled, he set about cutting up strawberries, bananas, apples, and kiwis, because a competitive Beckett he could handle, but a competitive Beckett with an empty stomach might just cause him grievous bodily harm. It wasn't worth the risk.

She joined him just as he had set two bowls of fruit, and two cups of steaming coffee, on the kitchen counter. She padded into the room in bare feet, her sneakers in her hands, wearing a tight white t-shirt and dark jeans. She was going to kill him when she saw what he had planned, and he couldn't wait.

She slipped her shoes on, and then set to work on her hair, pulling the curls back and into a loose braid. She sat opposite him, smiling, her eyes sweeping over the counter as she settled. Her brain finally registered what she'd just seen, her eyes snapped back to the sink, before looking up at him in horror. She was already pushing the chair back to stand again, when he placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

"I'm getting changed, Castle," she told him.

He gave her his best 'puppy-dog' look, his eyes wide and pleading, while his fingers gently squeezed her arm. "Don't."

She hesitated, holding his gaze, and gave in. "Fine," she replied.

Honestly? He hadn't been expecting that response. But then again she had been doing a lot of things recently that surprised him. He was never quite sure when she would throw him that seductive smile and grace him with uninhibited Kate, or narrow her eyes, glare at him, and walk away leaving him frustrated. She still kept him on his toes, kept him guessing.

His hand slipped from her arm, and he handed her a coffee, which she accepted with a bright smile.

"So this is what you dragged me from sleep for," she mused out loud before taking a sip of coffee.

He could almost see her plotting his downfall in her head. "Up for it?"

"Bring it on," she replied, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

Yeah. He was in trouble.

Once breakfast was finished, he hauled the crate onto the kitchen counter and grinned at her.

Her eyes widened. "Oh my god, Castle." She had thought all the ammo was in the sink. "There must be almost a hundred balloons in there."

He considered it for a moment. "Yeah, pretty close I'd say." He saw her glance down at her t-shirt, saw her silently reconsidering her outfit now that she realized she was about to get well and truly soaked. "No, you're not changing." He reached into the sink and began passing her water balloons. She cradled them in her arms, balancing as many as she could against her chest. He picked up the crate, holding it tight against his abdomen, and gingerly picked up the last remaining water bombs in the sink and balanced it all as best he could.

Kate raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. She followed him out of the loft, closing the front door behind them with a flick of her foot. She walked slowly, carefully, towards where he waited for the elevator, every step threatening to unbalance a balloon and send it crashing to the ground.

He too was struggling to keep them all intact. "Maybe I went overboard," he admitted, perhaps not needing to have filled all one hundred and twenty of them.

"Ya think?" She smirked at him.

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened. They stepped in slowly, careful not to bump one another as they did so. He was bending down to place the crate on the floor, as she was turning to face forward, when she bumped him slightly. It was enough to dislodge a couple of bombs from her arms. The timing couldn't have been better had she planned it. He was bending down, his head near her knees, as two balloons fell from her hands and hit him right on the top of his head. The latex burst open, and water exploded over his head, down his face, his back, his shirt.

He cried out in surprise as he became suddenly saturated. Standing, he spun around to glare at her, running his hands through his hair to shake out the water, before he used his knuckles to wipe his eyes. He stood, absolutely dripping, glaring at her.

She pressed her lips tightly together, kept the smile from breaking out on her face. While she kept the laughter contained, she said evenly, "And that's for waking me up this morning."

"I'll get you back for that," he warned lightly.

She couldn't laugh. If she laughed, even chuckled just a little, her whole body would shake and she would struggle to keep from bursting the balloons against her chest.

The elevator dinged again, and the doors opened up. He allowed her to step out first, but by doing so gave her an advantage he wasn't aware of until it was too late. The moment he stepped through the door out onto the roof, she was already three steps ahead of him, already facing him, already poised and waiting. Before he had time to react a water balloon hit him square in the chest, and she ran for cover, dropping a couple of the balloons as she did so, leaving a trail of water behind her.

He placed the crate down, armed himself with as many balloons as he could hold, and took off after her. It wasn't at all fair that she was still perfectly dry in her tight white shirt, and he was absolutely saturated. This needed to be remedied, and quickly.

He ducked behind a deck chair, while she crouched down beside a high planter box. The sun was beating down on them, and he had some reprieve from it thanks to being dripping wet, but she'd soon be feeling the discomfort of the warm morning sun, and she'd be begging him to wet her. He'd just have to wait, until her movements became sluggish and her skin began to gleam with sweat. He could wait.

"Oh come on, Castle!" She called across to him, tauntingly. "You just going to hide like a little girl, or you going to come after me?"

"Right now hiding like a little girl is working for me," he called back.

She chuckled. If she leaned around, raised her head a little, she might be able to get just the right angle to hit her target. She would be opening herself up to an attack, of course. But these weren't bullets, and she had to give him the satisfaction of hitting her with at least one balloon. Feeling charitable, she moved just enough to throw a bomb at him, when he fired one right at her - and hit her square in the chest.

She gasped and ducked back down, before looking down at her shirt. Thank god she'd put a bra on. She glanced back up at him to find his arms raised in victory. While he was reveling in his success, she fired a bomb right at his head - smacking him on the forehead, and exploding over his face. "Ha!" She exclaimed, pointing at him, feeling smug.

"I think I almost drowned then," he cried, wiping his hands over her face.

She fired another at his stomach while his eyes were closed and he was distracted by the water on his face. It hit him just above his crotch, drenching his shirt and pants. "Beckett!"

She laughed at him, couldn't help it. He was just too easy sometimes. "Come on, Castle," she called over to him. "Put those survival skills to use, and turn the tables."

He crouched down behind the chair, and planned his attack. She had two water balloons left in her hands. He had one. He would need to reload sooner than her, but he was closer to the crate. If he could make it to the crate, he could get the upper-hand. He just needed to get there without drowning first. He fired his last water balloon at her, to give him a few extra seconds while she ducked out of its way, and took off at a sprint back towards the crate, away from her. He reached the crate, and crouched behind it, his hands poised to wrap around the balloons and fire them at her.

But she didn't move.

She stayed sheltered by the planter, watching him intently, planning her next move. He had all the ammo now, she only had two remaining bombs. She couldn't get to the crate, he had that well and truly under his control. She could wait for him to move towards her, but knowing him they could be on this roof all day waiting for that to happen. No. She may as well surrender, and let him have his fun.

Standing, she held her hands out, a balloon in each hand, and made her way towards him.

He raised at eyebrow at her, but didn't move, his own hands armed and ready to fire the second he saw her fingers twitch.

"What are you waiting for?"

He glanced at her chest, her white shirt wet and clinging to the red bra beneath. Distracted, just for a second, he didn't see her elbows bend, didn't see the water balloons hurling at him until it was too late - one caught his thigh, the other his stomach. He didn't miss a beat, didn't give her a chance to gloat, before he was firing balloon after balloon at her as she continued to advance towards him. She was unarmed now, but she simply smiled and laughed as balloon after balloon was fired at her, some missing, most meeting their target.

He stopped the assault when she was close enough for the balloons to potentially hurt should he throw them now, and he let her step up to him, smiling and happy - and dripping wet.

She reached for him, the crate on the ground between them, and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him soundly. They kissed on the rooftop, carefree, wet, and happy. Her tongue languidly explored his mouth, while his hands roamed over her wet breasts, and she smiled against his lips, plotting her next move.

* * *

**AN:  
**

_**Hey I just met you,**_

_**and this fic's crazy.**_

_**But it was inspired by WriteRCastle's tweets: "Celebrating the first day of summer by filling up 120 water balloons and heading to the roof" and "Elevator mishap. I'm very, very wet.", and I'm sorry if they're not called 'planter boxes' in the USA, but I'm too lazy to use google for what is my least serious - and OOC - piece of writing ever.**_

_**So feedback maybe?**_


End file.
